Coming Home
by pumpkindarling
Summary: All she wanted was to return to the 'true' home she had left on the battlefield.


**Coming Home**

Inspired by the lyrics of "Coming Home" by Alter Bridge.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the world they play in.

Thank you to the awesome **Southern_Witch_69**, for jumping in to beta this for me.

* * *

**"Coming Home"**

As I peel away all the years of pain  
I discovered what's been all along  
You were so right, I was so wrong  
Every shooting star, they all fall so hard, they all fade like a played out song  
Now is the time, before all is lost

I'm coming home

Rushing back to me as the city sleeps  
So afraid of what I will find  
Memories they haunt from deep inside  
Every broken man comes to understand that he'll never find paradise  
When all that he wants was there all the time

I'm coming home

We come to find what we take for granted keeps us alive in the end  
So don't let time leave you empty handed  
Reach out tonight and make amends

So I'm coming home, back to a world left long ago  
And now I know I'm coming home  
I'll find my way back, I'm letting go  
I'm coming home

* * *

She'd always assumed she would return. It had never been discussed between them, but the draw was inexplicable and unavoidable. She hadn't warned him of her arrival. She didn't want to allow him the luxury of time and consequently the opportunity to turn her away.

He'd always had the ability to distance himself, placing barely justifiable obstacles in their path. She feared he would do the same again.

As she stepped through the great oak front doors, the edge of her tension eased. The familiar walls still had the ability to fill her with that homecoming relief and confidence, which only one other place could. She intended to be settled within her _true_ home tonight, no matter how hard the fight.

She turned right, towards the closed doors of the great hall, and paused in anticipation before heaving one door slowly open and stepping silently into the warm hall. The students were eating and chattering at their tables, the scene a perfect replica of every welcoming feast in Hogwarts throughout the years. Her gaze was drawn to the staff table at the end of the vast room, searching for the familiar figure sitting in the same chair at the end.

He looked… bored.

Waves of disdain emanated from his sneering face as he lazily surveyed the newest round of 'dunderheads' to soon be entering his classroom. She imagined she could almost hear the resigned sigh from her discreet hiding place by the edge of the hall. She couldn't bring herself to step any further forwards. Her Gryffindor courage deserted her at the last moment, and she merely watched him, hungrily drinking in his features.

She sensed the second before he would spot her, but she was paralyzed, adrenaline bursting throughout her body, and she waited for his gaze to reach her.

His entire body froze. To the casual observer he had simply paused, disinterested as always, but she could see the intensity in every fiber of his body. He didn't blink, but his gaze bore into her, searching for answers she didn't know the questions to. The students began to shuffle between them, but his gaze remained, preventing her from moving.

As the crowd thinned, he began to prowl towards her, as magnificent and powerful as ever. Her skin burned with the adrenaline released as the predatory eyes of the Potions master approached her, and though her 'fight or flight' instinct screamed "flight," she stood her ground.

Without a word he reached where she stood and stared down his hooked nose at what she hoped was a determined expression on her flushed face. She waited for him to speak, anticipating the silken voice that would electrify her nerves. She had dreamt of it every night since the last time she had heard it: three months ago on a war-torn battlefield. She had reached for him, the only one left standing in her close proximity. They had stood surveying the grounds of the school in muted despair, two unlikely soldiers of a war that never should have reached this innocent arena. She had turned to him then with blood and mud smeared across her heartbreakingly tormented face. He had stared as he did now, searching her tear-filled brown eyes desperately. He had leaned in, capturing her mouth, and her heart in one fell swoop. His kiss lasted only a second before he'd wrapped her in his slightly unsteady arms. And there they had stood as the other survivors moved around them, seeking loved ones. Shouts of horror and joys reaching their ears as the loved ones were found, and still they had stood, clinging desperately to each other.

He did not reach for her now, nor did he speak. He merely moved towards the door, and she followed. They did not stop until they reached his office, and he patiently waited for her to enter.

She turned then and waited in turn. He was not a man whose hand was to be forced; she had learnt that much at least in the decade she had known him. His hand gripped the door-handle still, and she could tell he was contemplating opening it again and exiting. She steeled herself. She was not prepared for him to exit her life again.

Finally, his lips parted, and she stepped forward in her eagerness to not miss one word.

"What is it you are looking for?" The words dripped off his lips with attempted indifference. She didn't know if it was just her hopeful imagination, but she thought she could hear a yearning underneath the superior tones.

She had thought many times on this question and how she would answer it if he were to ask.

"Home," she said simply, willing him to understand.

He paused for a moment before opening the door again and gesturing with a stilted tilt of his dark head. He didn't understand or, more likely, refused to acknowledge that he did. He wasn't going to make this easy for her. She cringed at the idea of trying to explain how she felt in words. She knew she could never do it justice. She pleaded with her eyes as she walked to him; her eyes begged for him not to reject her.

She stood as close to him as she had at the end of the most horrific war ever to shake the wizarding world. The only war left was for the heart of the man in front of her, and she was a soldier prepared to risk it all.

She took the final step that brought her into contact with his wiry body. She felt him take a sharp intake of breath, though he made no other movement. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she stood there in vain, waiting for his judgment.

Slowly, his arms moved to encompass her quivering frame. Lips gently brushed the top of her head. She released the breath she didn't know she'd been holding.


End file.
